


The Ravens

by Evitcani



Series: Living and Dying Beneath the Veil [17]
Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Gen, Post-Canon, Raven Queen Lore, prompt, request
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-18
Updated: 2017-04-18
Packaged: 2018-10-20 13:33:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10663689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Evitcani/pseuds/Evitcani
Summary: A monster, a mortal, a man. Angus is invited to make the same mistakes.





	The Ravens

**Author's Note:**

> I got an anonymous prompt on Tumblr:
> 
> "Coming up with a prompt off the top of my head: angus interacting with the ravens"
> 
> This is really deep into _Living and Dying Beneath the Veil_ backstory, but isn't super needed to pick up the story here.

The crypt always looked scary, even in the middle of the day. Maybe it was that Angus knew more about the central temple since he'd been able to decipher at least some of the _Liber Mortuorum_. He took a breath and pressed the signs. The door slid open and he entered with a flock of ravens. The ravens darted down to their perches, some carrying their dead. 

Angus pulled his robes tighter. "Bishop Gregory? Kravitz?" He called out to the depths, but the only answer was the sconces lighting up with their eerie white. 

That caught Angus off-guard when no one replied. The sconces only lit up white for Kravitz. The temple echoed enough that anyone inside would be able to hear him, but he only heard the cackling of the ravens deeper inside. He felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up as he shakily descended the stairs. 

The detective glanced around and pulled his hood up as the shadows danced across the ceiling. He knew how to read them now. Bishop Gregory and Kravitz had been concerned for months about what news the other temples had brought them. Angus paused to look up, pulling the the small raven's skull that hung around his neck up to his eye and peering through it. It was the same as it had been. He sighed and turned to a sconce, twisting it to signal to the other temples the rekindling flames, reconstruction was going fine. 

Farther in the temple, he picked up a bag of the pumpkin seeds hidden in a panel they scattered for the ravens. Kravitz said in that eerie, knowing way that some of the ravens kept vigilance in the temple at all times. He tossed a few handfuls behind the altar and fondly watched the birds flock and play over the food. He’d been able to start telling some of them apart and wasn’t sure what that said about how much time he spent in the temple.

Angus returned the bag to the side panel as one of the ravens flew to his shoulder. He reached forward to scratch it, but it bit him before he was close. That startled Angus backwards as a shadow swooped down and crashed into the wall. He jumped away and pulled out his wand. It was quicker to get to the back of the temple, so he ran, shoving at the signs quickly. He held it open so the ravens could flee inside, then slammed the door shut behind himself as the shadows roiled. 

It was always a danger without the paintings being sealed, but Angus had seen it once before. Kravitz had only needed to glance at the shadows to make them cower back. Angus only needed to be knocked off his feet once to get the point across that he shouldn’t try his luck against the things. 

There was a concerning thump against the door, but the the door would hold. He sat on the floor as the ravens gathered around him. Some curiously hopped onto his legs, so he held out his arms and more hopped up and clung to his long black robes. He wasn’t sure how long he would be there and considered pulling out the _Liber Mortuorum_ , but ultimately decided to toss his wand across the room for the ravens to retrieve. 

By the time the shadows settled down, Angus was practically buried under a pile of sleeping ravens and was dozing off himself. The door slid open, startling Angus and the ravens who all exited the back rooms at once. He wasn’t able to stop his head from smacking against the tile so he grunted in pain, then sat up with a groan to see if Bishop Gregory or Kravitz had returned. No one was there. Angus blinked into the empty room, standing slowly. 

The temples were strange puzzle boxes themselves. The door to the backrooms wasn’t the only one that had opened. Kravitz once mentioned that this particular temple extended several floors underground, but he had sealed the tunnels for _good reason_. It was possible that the shadows had accidentally flicked the right buttons, but Angus dismissed that theory. Angus had once accidentally gotten the right pattern for a door without completely understanding the puzzle. Bishop Gregory had laughed and told him he hadn’t gotten it the first time either. 

The foundations of this place only did things by a conscious decision with understanding of their consequences. This was an invitation. He flicked on a magelight with his wand and cautiously proceeded down the tunnels. The door slid close behind him and he shuddered. He reminded himself this place only trapped thieves. 

The walls were painted with style that fit well with the rest of the temple, but they were odd to see. Death had no place for decadence and this was a space not meant for anyone but the clergy or the dying. He dusted away some of the cobwebs and touched the fresco. It was strange to see both The Seasons and The Fates in one painting, even if The Raven Queen sat among both. His breath misted across the plaster and he shivered.

It hadn’t been that cold when he’d come down. 

Angus was starting to think this had been a bad idea. There was a creak behind him and he turned slowly. The sconces had been illuminated. As he glanced around, the ones near him also flared to life with no color or warmth. The shadows clutched at his feet as he moved from them, holding his magelight higher. It was quickly apparent why Kravitz had sealed the tunnel. He shook his head sadly at the black cloaked bones huddled in corners or broken across the steps. There were places where the dust was less and someone had made the effort to start collecting the dead for burial. 

Something had frightened _Kravitz_ into giving up on burying _clergy_. Clergy that had died defending the temple from _something_. 

The detective wanted to know what. 

He continued down the steps, wand held up at the ready. The sconces continued flaring to life as he descended. Some doors left ajar closed as he approached. He only had brief glances at more dead. Not all of them were clergy. Angus had enough research on the city to know the temple had fallen around the time a plague had swept through the area. The first place the dying went was to the arms of The Raven Queen and the clergy did not bar them. If they were meant to die of plague, they would, and turning away the infirm when they only wanted comfort would not stop that. The great masses of the dying they had taken had been dispatched as violently as the priests who had tried to defend them. 

He stepped carefully in the dust imprints Kravitz had left with his own shoes. He stopped when he could see where some kind of scuffle had occurred. Angus cast a shield as one of the skeletons threw itself at him. A fireball dispatched it back to its death. 

Someone hadn’t just desecrated this temple, they had wanted to make it distasteful for The Raven Queen to bless again. Angus’s eyes darted around. The undead were the opposite of frightening for Kravitz. A drop of liquid splashed in front of him and he slowly lifted his eyes upward. 

Angus didn’t think, he just ran. There was no place for fear; only escape. If it was like the shadows, perhaps he only need wait it out. He dodged forward and rolled into a larger room, slamming the door shut. He wiped his glasses off as he panted puffs of air into the freezing room. The _Something_ slammed against the door and made unworldly noises, but didn’t appear able to breach the stone. 

When Angus returned his glasses to his face with a trembling hand, he saw Kravitz standing on the dais before him. The reaper turned, looking Angus over with cool, red eyes. No, this wasn’t Kravitz. 

It was _her_. 

She touched the back of the ruined throne. Her whispers clawed up from the tiles, “ _It was not for me, but it is now. This was made for a queen, but now there is only a man to sit upon it._ ” Her eyes flicked down to it and she sat, folding her hands in her lap. Angus stared on in awe and terror. “ _Thrice before him were kings. One went by the queen, the second went by grief, and the third became him; a monster, a mortal, a man. Angus McDonald, son of Taako Taaco From the Moon, some things are not meant to live. When the time comes, you will commit the same mistake I did._ ”

“I - I don’t know what you mean,” Angus murmured.

She closed her eyes and Angus saw something like pain pass over her face - Kravitz’s face. “ _I pray you never do._ ” There was a click and she was gone. 

It took Angus a moment to regain his semblance of self.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to follow my [Tumblr](https://evitcani-writes.tumblr.com/).


End file.
